


your lips are cold as ice

by Pandemic



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Snow White Fusion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-10 00:30:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20126386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandemic/pseuds/Pandemic
Summary: There's a story told, at campfires and at bedsides. At feasts and celebrations. It tells the story of a man, who had a mirror who would tell him who was the most powerful man of all, the man who would change the world over. He'd talk to it every day, preen as it told him that man was him. He committed bloodshed in it's honour, destroying households and laughing at the decay it wrought all whilst the mirror repeated his name as a decree. Then one day the mirror changed, shifted, and it doomed a name to death before it even begun, placing a bounty on the head of a young inventor by the name of Tony Stark as it uttered his name.Or the Snow White AU.





	your lips are cold as ice

He’s panting, now. The breath comes in short, staccato bursts that punch the cold air with every sharp exhale. His skin feels taut across his cheekbones, frost gathering on his eyelashes. He wraps his cloak more firmly around his shoulders, the wind howling around him his only companion. He should be cold, and worried.

He’s not though. He’s vaguely aware of the ruins he’s left behind. Pierce is gone, toppled by his own greed with a healthy shove from him and his team. The regime had fallen, bloodless and quiet. And well, Steve hadn’t hung around long enough to know who stepped up into his shadow. He hopes, idly, that Nat got a fair swing at democracy. She deserves to shake free of playing pawn on someone else’s chessboard.

Once, he thinks, it would have been him. Once, he knows, he would have jumped at the chance. But that life was eroded before him, rewritten and exchanged for another when a pair of hazel eyes looked at him and begged him to look the other way as he escaped.

_“I can’t let you go alone, dear heart.” Steve said fiercely, grasping at Tony’s hands as hard as he can, knuckles white. “He’ll find you. Let me fix it first.”_

_“Steve.” Tony says his name likes it’s a prayer, “I can’t let you do that for me.”_

_Steve holds him close, letting the warmth from him seep into his skin, before pushing him back so they could hold the others gaze. Tony’s is soft, full of adoration. “I would do a lot more for you if you only asked.”_

_They turn quiet, and Steve stupidly thinks it settled. He should know Tony better by now, childhood friendship forged in the crucible of shitty upbringings should have reminded him of how stubbornly selfless the man is. The sex is fierce that night, quick and dirty and intense in a way that shakes Steve to his core. Tony is greedy and needy and touches him everywhere, chasing sweat across Steve’s skin with his tongue until he’s out his mind._

_The next morning Steve wakes to cold sheets and a note by his bedside. And thus begins the Captain’s destruction and dismantling of Pierce’s dictatorship in order to bring Tony home._

Steve sighs. It hadn’t made any difference, in the end. Magic has a way of finding you regardless of how fast you run, leaving behind it devastation and whispers. It had taken Steve a long, lonely year to find its source.

He looks down now, wipes away the snow from the glass.

Even now, in permanent sleep, Tony is beautiful. He looks so peaceful it makes Steve heart ache, squeezing tight against his chest. It looks _wrong _on him, sickly. Tony is chaos theory, frenetic energy and constant motion. The only movement now is his chest rising and falling. Whilst Steve is overwhelmingly, ridiculously and unbelievably happy for that particular sign of life, he wants more. He wants Tony arguing in the warm bask of candlelight over whether the power of flight or the power of strength is best. He wants Tony soft and quiet, whispering with him amongst the catacombs of Shield. 

More than anything, he wants Tony half-lidded and sated, amongst fisted sheets and thick air.

Pushing the glass lid back was an effort in itself, heavy and unwieldy. His hands slipped numerous times, one of which causing him to catch his palm off the corner and slice the skin open. The blood drips onto the glass, a macabre sacrifice. Steve’s too delirious to care. The cold has begun to seep into his skin. 

_Tony_, his heart sings, _Tony, Tony, Tony. _Every rush of blood bears his name. 

His knees hit the forest floor, like he’s setting up pilgrimage at Tony’s feet. He leans down, into the casket that could so easily mean death, but Steve smiles through tears at its rebirth. His breath mingles on Tony’s closed lips, before he reaches in, and claims them as his own.

_Tony, _his mind cries, _Tony wake up I’m here now._

He rocks back on his feet, and laughs a broken and wet sound when the love of his life’s eyelids flutter open.

“Hello darling.” He breathes, “Sorry it took so long.”

Tony grins and it hits Steve in the gut like a sucker punch, “It’s okay,” he sits up, grabbing a fierce hold onto Steve’s coat, reeling him back in, “You were worth the wait.”

* * *

_There's a story told, at campfires and at bedsides. At feasts and celebrations. It tells the story of a man, who had a mirror who would tell him who was the most powerful man of all, the man who would change the world over. He'd talk to it every day, preen as it told him that man was him. He'd commit bloodshed in it's name, destroy households and laugh at the decay all whilst the mirror chanted his name. Then one day the mirror changed, shifted, and it doomed a name to death before it even begun, placing a bounty on the head of a young inventor by the name of Tony Stark. A man who cared not for power, or the shackles that it brought with it, just cared that he had his beloved by his side._

_The story has changed so many times now, in the retelling. One story says Captain Steve Rogers (or as he is known in history now, Paladin Knight Steve Rogers) had the strength of fifty men. Another said Tony Stark (or better yet, King Anthony Stark) met seven dwarfs and built a machine out of a cave. But what they all agree on is this. Captain Rogers tore the world apart to bring Tony home, making Tony the most powerful man on earth. And true love's kiss _is _truly a kiss of life._

**Author's Note:**

> i didn't wake up today thinking i'd write a quick snow white fusion, but here we are.
> 
> find me on [tumblr.](https://youaremylodestar.tumblr.com)
> 
> inspired a lil by this lovely photo set.


End file.
